


Daybreak

by JSparks



Series: Fluffy DTeam Stories [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fear, Hunting, Light Horror, M/M, Manhunt - Freeform, No Smut, Survival, if you wanna call it that I guess, not sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSparks/pseuds/JSparks
Summary: He could run across fields, hide in caves and abandoned homes, climb mountains, scale trees and avoid as long as he wanted to. But there is no escape.---This is a little different from what I normally post, I just got the vibe to write this and I did!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Fluffy DTeam Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755697
Comments: 6
Kudos: 204





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> (This is non-graphic horror hench the teen rating) 
> 
> This is honestly one of my best writing to date, I can only write like this once in a blue moon. These good creative moments are hard to come by and I wanted to share even if it wasn't what I normally do :)

He’s here. 

The creak of the floor was clear against the overwhelming ringing of the crickets that flooded into the small chamber from the broken window. His body ran ice cold and the lightweight blanket felt like a prison rather than a symbol of comfort. The squeak and groan of the stairs were deafening against his strained ears. A cavern was morphing and forming in his chest, that familiar feeling of dread was seeping into his boots and crawling up his legs. If the sickening emotion claimed his entire body he knew that he would be paralyzed against this cot and there was only a matter of time.

He was prepared for this, the satchel still folding over his shoulder and resting on his hip, feet still fit snugly in his black boots and leather gloves never left his fingers, not even to sleep. He still had time to make his escape without the other man knowing he was even inside the walls of this run down cottage at all. The brunette pulled the sheets away from his skin, exposing it to the spring air and letting his shoes barely touch the floorboards. Coming into this house wasn’t an accident, a miscalculation, or a slip up, ignorant mistakes were a thing of the past now.

By the moonlight he could still see the subtle markings against the floor, the little scratches into the floor with his pocket knife were invisible to the naked eye but he knew exactly what they meant. It was a path to the window across the room with the only stable wood that wouldn’t groan when he stood atop it. As he moved about the room, letting his feet dance the path he had trained himself to remember, he forced himself to breathe out of his mouth, even the wheeze of his nose would be too loud. 

The rest of the shattered glass was wiped away with a piece of wood, he was able to crawl out of the pane with only a few cuts to the tips of his fingers that weren’t covered by his gloves. Jumping down from the second story was not an option, noise was everything. The smallest drop of a glass, the rustle of putting on boots, a groan from cutting your arm getting out of a window, silence was survival. 

He planned for this, he placed a decrepit flower bed on his window ceil and maneuvered down to hang off of it. To his left was a rusty drain pipe lining the side of the mossy brick. With one hand against the dirty flower basin and the other against the discolored pipe, he got further down on the wall, far enough to reach a wheelbarrow that was propped up against the wall below the window. Using as much upper body strength as he could muster, he snatched the handle of the wagon, pulled himself down the wall further and jumped down the last few feet. He made sure to cover the ground below the window with wet leaves to soften any sound of his combat boots hitting the grassy floor.

We are not out of the clear yet, he reminded himself. This was not the time to celebrate in any way. 

Still staring down the house looking for any signs of movement, he took a few timid steps backward. Nothing was worth taking his eyes off the house, not even tripping. The pad of his foot teased the ground for a few seconds before transferring his entire weight onto it. Looking away, losing your patience, taking any less precaution, or not doing your do diligence is lethal. 

Patience is also required when you need an extra set of hands. Bribing a village child to do some aimless tasks for an unspecified amount of time was not easy, but a greedy little boy was willing to smack 2 rocks together on the edge of town for a bag of sweets. This wasn’t an excuse to watch the village schoolhouse bully suffer, no, it was about sound. He had the boy stand in various different spots until he couldn’t hear the rocks from inside the house anymore. He marked the place with an innocent looking rock, the only indication was a small rubber band curled around the stone. 

The second the tan sight of the band crossed the corner of his eye he turned and sprinted as fast as he could away from the village. The settlement itself was on the east side of the thin and shallow river running through the plains and grassland. On the west side of the stream was more clearing and then the beginning of a dense forest. He sprinted until he got to the river bank and looked for the stones children placed in the water so they didn’t need to wet their shoes while crossing to go play in the field or explore the trees. 

The mossy rocks were naturally slick but the grit of his boots made crossing the stone path trouble-free. These particular boots were one of his most valuable possessions, he traded for days in a village to afford them and after learning from his last pair, he never got them wet. He climbed up the mirroring bank and jogged across the landing. 

His lungs burned and ached but there was no way he was stopping before he was safe, this clearing was way too exposed and open. As he ran down to the edge of the tree line he looked for the tree with the most coverage. He swiftly picked a towering tree with strong, thick branches and leaves with large surface area. The moonlight dimmed as he crossed under the first stouter, smaller plants and shrubs. 

Stuttering to a walk, he didn’t give into his body's demand for him to stop and breathe, while approaching the large trunk he reached into his cross body bag. A thick white rope was curled up in the side pocket of his satchel, he removed it and felt the rough texture beneath his fingers. He wrapped the rope around his fingers and gripped them in his right hand as the tree was feet away. 

Whipping the cord around the base of the tree and snatching it with his left hand. He took the excess cable and tightened it enough so he could climb the tree in the fastest way he knew possible. Discovering the fastest way to scale a tree was learned through trial and error, buying some cheap burlap rope was life changing. As fast as his body would manage he climbed up foot by foot in an attempt to see the village from his perch.

Going as far up the trunk as his body would allow and using the branches to his advantage, he found a thick limb and sat on it with his back against the base of the plant. There was a break in the leaves where he could see across the little river and over to the village, soft lamps lit up the paths and though buildings and homes obstructed his view, he could see almost every corner of the village. Shadows moved in the night, I could be a stray cat looking for any food scraps left out from the local bakery or teen children sneaking out after dark or it could be… him. 

He coiled up the white twine in his hand and shoved it back inside his bag, while doing so he felt something familiar brush his hand, a little pair of binoculars he had found looking through the kitchen of the old abandoned home. 

Feeling more comfortable now he was hundreds of feet away and a few meters of the ground, he took out the eyewear and pressed it against his face. Though one of the lenses was busted and unusable the other was completely intact, if he closed his left eye he could see the town clearly through the glass. 

He glanced over the town's crop fields where wheat grew by torchlight, the animal stables and the back of the metal worker's hut where the coals still burned hot. He searched for any type of movement, any signs of him anywhere. 

His breathing caught in his throat and the sickening feeling of fear struck through him like a bolt of lightning. His breathing stalled, his heartbeat was pounding right into his ears, he almost dropped the binoculars had his hands not been gripping them tightly. 

There he was standing on the edge of the town line, staring into the woods, he raised one arm sword in hand and pointed it at the tree tops. He knew the shorter man ran and he knew exactly where. 

Now the brunette had one objective, survive until sunrise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are always appreciated :)
> 
> I'd like to hear what you guys thought of this, it's not my regular thing. 
> 
> (I will most likely not do a part two just because I feel like this story works better by itself and I won't be able to replicate writing like this for a while.)


End file.
